“May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.”
-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit
It is time my children, you must leave this fortress; the battlements turned down. As Perceval left the forest in search of the Grail he knew nothing about, there are new adventures at hand for you and for me that we can’t at this time perceive… new words to write and old ones to reprimand. But it is all for naught if you never enter the world.
Continue reading Words in Flight
In 2014, I signed up for health insurance through the Affordable Care Act. I was given a subsidy so my monthly premium was within my budget. During that same year, I started to take the drug Pramipexole, a dopamine agonist which fools the brain into thinking its dopamine. My brain does not make enough of this neurotransmitter resulting in my having Parkinson’s. I take 150 MG a day and at the time I paid about $120 for a 90-day supply through my health insurance. Continue reading Mr. Parkinson and the Politics of Pharmaceuticals
In the winter of 2010, on a bright sun-drenched morning, while driving in the country through the chilly air, I saw an owl flying at my sight level, aside of my vehicle. What was this nocturnal bird, clearly out of its element trying to tell me? My mind wandered back to Native American mythology; how all’s connected in the stream of life; how animals are spiritual beings that guide us along the path. I thought of so many things that this owl could symbolize. With so many revelations that had eluded me never to return, I had to have the answer? Continue reading Signe
“Oz never did give nothing to the tin man that he didn’t already have,” -Dewey Bunnell
And it came to pass on this day, that the wild man who created such havoc casting out demon shadows he saw in others were in reality his demons to do away with. And the inquisitive boy yearning for knowledge at every waking moment, never getting enough, are one and the same for they are you and they are me, forced into enchantment and awareness, abiding in a lonely house off to the left-hand way of ‘being’ by the river of contemplation’s. And the boy dwelling inside the wild man approaches the threshold after suffering death and inhalation of ego’s to discover compassion… the jeweled still point, lying at the heart of the soul. And it is there you will find me sitting on the porch in quiet mindful meditation.
Some time ago whilst I was sitting in Starbucks, a woman noticed the tremor in my right hand and asked, “do you have Parkinson’s disease?” I looked at her a little surprised captured in my tremor and answered “yes.” She proceeded to ask questions of which I answered freely. Most of the questions centered on PD and the fact that she has is a distant relative who was just diagnosed.
I get this kind of attention a lot, which I don’t mind, either people ask questions or those too embarrassed to ask. However, they reveal a slight smile with a look in the eyes and you can tell they know. And rest assure, that whether you ask outright or you’re too embarrassed to ask, you have a few things in common; either you know someone with Parkinson’s or know somebody, whom you feel might have it. That someone might be you!
So the relative in question was a sister-in-law who upon hearing her diagnosed, stayed in bed for two weeks, too upset to get out of her room. And here is this woman looking at me and seeing two extreme reactions to the same diagnoses. I know in my mind I was thinking the same thing. Upon leaving, she told me she would pray for me of which I thanked her. This was probably the first seed of inspiration to write about Parkinson’s.
So the gist of my story is this: I am like these individuals and all others who know. And depending on what day it is, I can go to extremes. So my therapy is to write and share these words and just maybe this will give those with a close connection to this disease a rhyme or reason as to ‘why’ and move forward. As T.S. Eliot wrote in ‘Little Gidding’:
“We shall not cease from exploration,
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
I didn’t set out to write about Parkinson’s figuring there was enough being said and written. But the more I told my story to friends the more encouragement I received. It wasn’t enough that others have written about this disease and their relationship to it, what mattered was, my story wasn’t out there for I had a voice and an obligation to write it.
For their understanding I want to thank family and friends for being there and patience in the fact that my life had changed and I now moved a little slower. To my fellow bloggers who encouraged my creativity in the blogosphere and to Mirja who always had an unending faith in my abilities as a writer.
Thank you, JC